


Life gives you something special, take it!

by VanessaWolfie



Series: Learning a Thing or Two [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flirting, Getting Together, Minor Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Theatre, past Sandor Clegane/Jaime Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaWolfie/pseuds/VanessaWolfie
Summary: Sandor gets invited to Jaime's opening night of his favorite play. Sandor does not get a lot of warning of all the twists. Sandor meets a pretty red haired, red dressed girl, who smiles a lot. Maybe he'll smile back this time?
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Learning a Thing or Two [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548217
Comments: 15
Kudos: 32





	1. Opening Night

**Author's Note:**

> Sandor deserves to be happy. Bear with me, this might be more fluffy than the Braime thing, I do not know what went wrong in me. Enjoy!

Sandor grunts as his phone rings. Being in between jobs has made him lazy about getting up and starting the day proper. He picks it up, seeing it’s Jaime and smiles as he’s reminded of the last time they talked. Jaime had been freaking out about wanting to audition for an amateur production of his favorite play and Sander had told him to go for it.

“So, Lannister, did you go for the play?” Sandor says in greeting.

“Yeah, actually, I’m calling to invite you to the opening night. There’s a few things I want to catch you up on, but won’t have time to meet you beforehand, got a hard-ass director. If you could, maybe wait up a bit after, and I’ll come find you?” Jaime says and Sandor is startled into silence for few seconds, before he can reply.

Because, Jaime sounds happy. Like, Jaime was happy while they were together, maybe most at the start, but this is like tenfold that. Jaime also sounds more sure of himself, not as hesitant. What’s most surprising is that he’s straight out asking for something. Even though Sandor didn’t have much time to stay with Jaime in the end of their relationship, he noticed that, no matter what, Jaime didn’t outright ask anything. He just didn’t know what to do about it, especially since everything was sort of sliding away from them at that point in time.

He knows for certain he doesn’t want to drive back that newfound skill, so when his brain turns back online, he’s quick to reassure Jaime that of course he’d love to catch up.

“You sound good, Jai, and I’m looking forward seeing what the fuck is causing it.”

They end the call soon after that, but for days afterward, Sandor can’t get it out of his head. Jaime sounded so … grounded. He tries to stop thinking about it, because really, he’s probably going to get some clue when Jaime talks to him and really, he always knew Jaime could be happier than he was with him. That’s why they kept being friends. It’s just … Sandor feels a surprising jealousy, not at whoever or whatever is making Jaime happy, but at Jaime for getting there, where Sandor has almost gone backwards.

When opening night comes, Sandor cleans up a bit and tries to comb his hair into a better shape, before stopping himself and thinking, _for whom am I doing this for?_

He gets there just in time to sneak into his seat, which is in one of the best spots and he has to awkwardly find the best way to sit on the generic chair, as it’s almost not big enough for him. He thinks absently, _hope now one is behind me, not able to see_ , before it’s cast from his head as he takes notice of the girl next to him, who is wearing a lovely red dress and smiling at him as she schooches her chair so he can have a bit more room. He tries to sort of, well not smile back, because that tends to make people run off, but look pleasant enough to be polite.

A bit captured by the girl, the long red wavy her shaking as she moves, he’s startled as the lights dim and the play starts.

And, well damn, Jaime will have a lot of things to explain, because that’s his ex, on a stage, in front of a whole lot of people, in a beautiful medieval gown, doing the clearly female part of this play.

As they meet the other characters, amongst them, _the knight_ , Sandor starts understanding. ‘Cause they play off each other like this is Broadway, and not some theater in a hole-in-the-wall joint, and they look a bit too _really in love._ Also, that woman, playing the knight, clearly wouldn’t have been right for the role if they switched to what was intended. As he watched them, Sandor actually started forgetting there was even a twist in the play at all. It all seemed so natural, so smooth.

When it gets to the kissing scene, Sandor is convinced Jaime is in a relationship with this woman, and the girl next to him gasps out a strong, ‘ _Arya_ _’_ as if in disbelief. He’s sort of curious as to why that is, but then he gets captivated by the play again.

When it’s done and they all bow, Sandor doesn’t even think before he rises from his chair and applauds like it is his job. Which, he doesn’t have one at the moment, so this very well could be. He doesn’t notice how the girl next to him smiles brightly and looks at him, all soft at his enthusiasm. It takes clapping and shouting for at least 10 minutes for the actors to bow out for the last time and leave the stage. Sandor tries to get stock of where he is, but he’s immediately taken in by the beautiful girl, in the red dress, with the red hair, matching but not quite and she smiles at him, which he knows makes him furrow his brows, but he tries to counteract it by a little nod.

“So, which one of them is Arya?” he asks, because he’s been trying to be more forward, more involved lately, in conversations that is.

“Oh, ah, did I mention her? She’s my kid sister, but she’s fierce and she’s the director for this show. She apparently chose to gender-swap in the leading roles, without telling any of her family.”

“Ah, I see. Yeah, well, I’m friends with that guy, Jaime, who is the lead, and he didn’t mention this either before inviting me.” Sandor says, trying to keep the rough out of his voice, but of course, it fails, as always. He does make her laugh, which surprises him, but it’s such a lovely intriguing sound that he smiles. It feels a bit foreign, but on the other hand, it feels more weird not to respond to the girls contagious happiness.

They continue chatting along until a short, tiny black haired … girl? Comes up from behind Sansa, and Sandor can immediately tell this is Arya. He tries to communicate her arrival with his face, which Sansa does take notice of, because, surprise, she is looking at him as they chat, and she turns around just in time for that tiny monster to give her a hug.

He made eye-contact with Sansa, somehow communicating to this newfound acquaintance that they’d see each other later, and left to try and find Jaime.

He was at the other hand side of the stage, looking around for those blond locks, when they came out, first Jaime and then right up behind him, that tall - just as tall as Sandor- woman who looked all serious and tense. Jaime on the other hand, looked happy as hell. Sandor had _never_ seen him smile that wide and they’d had some spectacular moments together. Sandor automatically opened his arms to hug Jaime, perhaps only because he knew that Lannister would jump into his arms if not presented with a guided way into a hug. When Sandor looked up over Jaime’s head, he saw the tall, brutish woman looking over at them, still tense, with what Sandor could only guess was jealousy, but also, somehow, fond. They were _definitely_ dating.

“I’m guessing that woman staring at me like she wants me dead, is your new girlfriend?” Sandor says, beating Jaime to introducing them.

Jaime retreats from the hug and blushes a bit, and god, Sandor knows these things, except as he does, the woman steps up to him, puts a hand on Jaime’s back and Sandor _sees_ the embarrassment, the tension, just leak out of Jaime. This woman is clearly magic.

This gives Sandor leave to continue, even though Jaime forgot to answer him in words, so he says, “I can see how you could’ve convinced Jaime to wear a gown a play the damsel,” and means it both sincerely and as a joke and is not at all prepared for the response, as the couple in front of him, tense, blush, stutter before bursting into laughter, so _happy_ that it’s contagious, even when you don’t know the cause.

Sandor laughs with them and then Arya and Sansa come up to them and Sansa goes to hug them both and Arya goes to … something, it’s not a hug, because Sandor is pretty sure Arya doesn’t let anyone see her do that, but it is some sort of congratulations, as she seems pleased with how the opening went.

Sansa smiles at him as she sort of positions herself next to him after the hugs and before Sandor knows it, they’re all going out to a diner for pancakes and milkshakes and other sweet disgusting things to celebrate. Sandor isn’t quite sure how he got whisked up by this group, but he takes any chance he gets to marvel at this ball of happiness that seems to be Lannister these days and of course, it doesn’t hurt that Sansa, with her red hair and her red dress and her red smiling lips comes too, and looks at him more often than not and Sandor feels like she could be something special. Maybe, this once, he’ll see if life gives him something special. This time, he’ll even take it.


	2. Kiss me, Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they go on a date!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been a while, but I had summer job and horse riding and stuff you couldn't care less about. Just enjoy the read!

Sandor is on the phone with Lannister again. He’s not sure why they keep in contact now, after months of nothing, but it’s a friend and he’s been told those help.

“I know you have a deep red shirt I bought you once. Wear that and some black trousers and you’ll be fine, man. Sansa tends to be focused on you anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” Jaime is saying through the phone and Sandor grits his teeth, because he’s sure the bastard is smirking. He can’t see it, but he’s sure.

“I’ll put on what I want, you’re not the boss of me,” Sandor replies, voice gritty and tense and all he gets for his trouble is a burst of laughter through the phone.

“Sandor, breathe. You called me for help. Sansa likes you. Let me tell you, no one in that family is actually capable of anything but nice, even Arya, no matter how hard she tries. Since Sansa asked you out, that’s what she wants to do; take you out. Breathe and move your toes and stop being so grumpy. You can’t front with me, I saw the smile you gave her, you sap,”

Sandor scoffs here, not because he’s doubting that Jaime saw him smile, because he probably did, but god, “pot calling kettle black now, isn’t it? Lannister, I have _never_ seen you as happy as when she had her arms around you and I’ve seen you cum!” Sandor exclaims, because really, it’s been bothering him, because like … what does Jaime look like when he cums with her? Does he feel like he’s in heaven?

“Well, of course I’m happy, I’m in a relationship, with a person who is quite frankly perfect for me and I’m enjoying everything we try. What I’m getting at here, is that you should go get that for yourself! Go and have fun and I’ll welcome you to the club of happiness and sunshine when you start smiling all the damn time, like we both know you can.”

Sandor doesn’t refute it, because the problem with friends is that they know you and the problem with exes is that they really know you and when you put those two together in one, it’s just … you’ll never have the upper hand again. Instead, he finds some black trousers and the red shirt Jaime talked about and tries to comb his hair again, gives up, starts again and then gives up and grabs his keys.

He’s going to pick her up and they’re going to the suburbs, somewhere with parking, having a meal and then Sandor had thought to maybe offer her a drive, out of the city even.

He’s rendered speechless when he pulls up and she’s standing outside her apartment, waiting for him. She’s wearing purple this time and it is breathtaking on her and he’s still not sure how she’s going out with him, how she _asked_ him out. “You look, gorgeous,” he stutters out, trying to quell the instinct to run his hand through his hair.

“Why, thank you, Sandor. I like that color on you,” Sansa replies and comes to kiss him on a cheek, in greeting.

Sandor has to work hard not to jump at the touch, no one ever greets him so … intimately.

They get in the car, and Sandor is happy he manages to partake in the conversation Sansa starts. It’s light, but not too mundane small talk and then they get to the restaurant and he goes out of his way to be a gentleman, and she giggles a bit at his attempts, but also smiles gently and he blushes and good lord, he’s happy when the waiter brings them their food. It gives him a second of respite. He’s taken aback again when they’ve finished eating and are just sipping the wine, talking quietly, she reaches over the table and envelopes his hand.

She doesn’t spook at him freezing at the touch, just makes eye contact with him and smiles that sweet smile again.

“I’m really glad we met at the opening night. Have you known Jamie for long?”

At that, Sandor can only chuckle and say, “Well, we actually used to date.” And then continuous laughing as Sansa just looks shocked and surprised.

“I mean, we broke up amicably, obviously, it really was just because we didn’t fit together very well. We weren’t what the other needed.”

Sansa laughs at that, adding to his sincere comment “Yeah, I mean, it’s clear that Brienne is exactly what that man needed. No offense.”

“That was my thought exactly when I saw them together. Who would’ve thought Jaime would find himself a woman to give him what he needed.”

They launch into a conversation about how Sansa knows Brienne and then they move onto stereotypes and Sandor might be steering them pointedly from work discussions, but he’s not really proud of his current situation so sue him.

They walk out of the restaurant side by side and Sandor can’t help but smile when Sansa reaches for his hand and they walk hand in hand to his car. It’s something he and Jaime never did, because it doesn’t occur to Sandor, even if he likes it and Jaime, well Jaime never would’ve asked for that.

She keeps a hand on his hand on the stick of the car and Sandor _really_ must focus on driving. He had meant for them to just drive around, but he doesn’t think he can keep calm for all that. He drives them to a look out that isn’t right by the road.

“I hope you don’t mind a little walk. It’s nothing much, just enough that most people don’t know to come here.” Sandor says as he parks and she just nods and squeezes his hand before letting go. Sandor grabs a spare jacket he has in the back seat and gets out of the car. When they meet in front of the hood, he offers up the jacket silently and has to look to the sky and beg for mercy when she just turns around right in front of him, clearly expecting him to put it on her. He likes taking care of people.

It’s actually the half the reason he keeps the jacket in his car.

1) be ready for anything

2) be ready for everybody else.

“Thank you, Sandor. That was so thoughtful.”

Sandor blushes and looks to the ground. Sansa entwines their fingers again before he can think too much of his reaction and he looks at it for a second, so unused to someone so casually touching him and then tugs her gently towards the path.

It’s pretty hidden and you go right in between two long thick bushes, but when you get through them, it’s an empty clearing with a view of the city and surroundings. There’s even a bench there, just a few feet off the cliff edge.

“Oh, Sandor, this _is_ beautiful,” Sansa says, breathing it out in wonder and now it is her that’s tugging them closer to the cliff edge.

“See, I’m pretty sure _this_ is where I live.” She’s pointing at some lights, but to be honest, they can’t really tell anything of placement from here. It’s all just pretty lights from here.

“Sure it is, Princess,” Sandor replies without thought, not looking at the lights but her.

He freezes when he realizes, but Sansa just holds his hand tighter and whispers, “Someone might think I’m vain, but I think I really like that nickname,” and Sandor can’t help but breathe out a little laugh.

“But only if I can call you sweetheart,” she adds and Sandor sobers up and looks at her with his brows raised all the way up to his hairline.

Sansa, again, doesn’t let him reject it, she just smiles delightfully, and Sandor can see she knows exactly what she’s doing and he’s both a bit jealous at the blatant confidence that shines from this girl, but also, just so taken by it. He doesn’t expect he could ever do anything wrong with her, she would steer him right.

She doesn’t stop at a smile but reaches up and runs her finger over his brows, smoothing them out. “I’ll make you see why, just you wait, sweetheart.”

Sandor can barely deal with the mounting tension between them. He’s not so used to people touching him. He hasn’t really had much since Jaime, and it’s been a while. It’s not like people are jumping to touch his face on a regular basis. Most flinch when they notice. Sansa hasn’t done that at all. She doesn’t seem to mind his size, or his scars and Sandor keeps waiting for this to be a dream.

The moment doesn’t break, but instead, Sansa’s hand moves to his cheek, and she puts just enough pressure to have him leaning a bit down, and then she’s stepping up on her toes and he doesn’t realize until just the last moment and she kisses him.

His hands come to the small of her back and he lifts her a bit, mostly just supporting her and leans into the kiss himself, deepening it. When they break, Sandor thinks he might be honest to go smiling.

She looks at him, smiling right back, so bright that it’s contagious, and then tugs on his arm, and with some maneuvering, drags them to the edge. She positions herself right in front of him, wiggles in close and gets his arms around her middle. It’s so close, and intimate and warm. Sandor sure hasn’t felt anything like this for ages. He’s not even sure he ever felt quite like _this_ with Jaime.

“I’m really happy you took me here, Sandor.” Sansa whispers out into the quiet night and Sandor can’t help himself, he leans down and places a kiss to the top of her head.

“That’s it, kiss me Sandor,” Sansa murmurs and he tentatively, not wanting to do anything she doesn’t want, moves his hands to the tips of her shoulders, and leans down further and places a kiss on her cheek. And then another by her ear and then one on her neck, all tender, but then she turns around in his arms, and he melts around her, sheltering her from the weather, from the cold, from the world, and the leans in to kiss her properly.

Eventually they move to the bench, and Sandor thinks, in the furthest back reaches of his mind, _maybe I will learn to be as happy as Jaime_. It’s a good thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is like ... half way done already so it might just go up this week as well! 
> 
> hope you like it, I'll gladly read about what you think in the comments !


	3. Yes, exactly, sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And sex...

Sandor invites her into his apartment, a bit self-conscious, ‘cause his place has never been very decorated, it’s sparse and just has exactly what he needs, no more. It’s not exactly what he’d think she’s used to.

“Sandor, sweetheart, show me around,” she says after he closes the door and then just stands there awkwardly.

He does as she says, surprised when he automatically reaches out a hand, waiting for her to link them together. He leads her around the minimalistic apartment, the kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bedroom. When they get in the bedroom, Sansa turns to face him, reaching up to cup his face, as she’s done before and drags him down a bit to kiss her. It feels every bit as wonderful as all those times before, but Sandor is unsure what exactly she’s going to want in here.

“Calm down, sweetheart, I’m not expecting you to figure everything out here and now.”

Right - cause they have discussed former partners, experience, stiltedly once, and while Sansa had laughed at the mention of Jaime, she had noted that Sandor seemed to have mostly experience with men. Sandor had pointed to his face and said,

_“Doesn’t normally charm the ladies, this face, does it?”_ and she’d smiled and kissed his scarred cheek and looked at him with eyes so pure and sweet that Sandor had wanted to look away, escape the feelings. She hadn’t let him.

“We’re here together, and we’ll do this together. How about you help me out of this dress for now?”

Sandor is hesitant to touch the dress, he’s not known for his gentle and delicate working fingers.

“I asked, sweetheart, so that means you’re allowed,” Sansa says, and Sandor hurries to get behind her, because he’s not sure he wants to show her how that makes him react. He can feel how he’s suddenly gnawing on a lot more lip than before. It’s not good for the skin around, but he isn’t thinking of that right now. He’s thinking of being … worthy of unzipping the dress, not tearing it.

The dress falls from her to the floor and Sansa steps out of it, bra and panties left, both looking very alluring and Sandor can definitely feel his own constricting jeans.

She turns to him and keeps intense eye-contact as she starts to unbutton his shirt and jeans, sliding them both off, and he helps as he can.

After that, it’s more natural for a while, he knows this, naked and foreplay, making out and getting to the bed. She drags him on top of her, and he makes sure to support himself up on his elbows like he did with Jaime, like he’s always done, making sure to keep the most part of his weight off of his partner. She starts by running her hands all over his skin, scarred and smooth and he’s so aware of it all and it’s adding to his arousal with every touch.

Then she does something with her bra and it opens in the front and suddenly, Sandor is looking at these hand-fulls and he automatically brings up a hand to cup one, running his fingers over the nipple, and is rewarded with a short gasp of air, and the nipple tightening in front of him.

“Yes, exactly, sweetheart,” Sansa moans and Sandor, never shy to bring pleasure to his partners moves slightly lower so that he can focus one hand and his mouth on the beauties, and Sansa grasps his head, fingers twining through his hair and she guides him, faster, harder, slower, less, and more. He eventually slides down even lower, kissing down her stomach and then drags the panties down, and - because he’s honestly a bit terrified of getting his fingers, his big, rough fingers anywhere close to her opening - he leans down to suckle at her, licking her folds and _loving_ the taste of her.

“Oh, good, so good for me sweetheart, but please, Sandor, baby, fuck me now, come on, need you inside me, where do you keep condoms?” Sansa babbles as she writhes under his tongue and Sandor is almost disappointed he doesn’t get to stay there, but he’s got to admit, he’s hard as a rock. He leans over to the drawer next to the bed and grabs a condom, rolling it on without trouble and then he looks at her, for hints as to how she wants it.

His breath is taken away at the sight of her quickly, but efficiently pumping fingers in and out of herself, and the next thing he knows she’s circled her legs around his back and tugs him closer, helps him line up and then he sinks in.

His hips stutter and she clamps her legs around him, holding him still and then she’s reaching up, tugging him down to kiss her and it all feels so much, feels so good.

“Now move for me, come on sweetheart. I’m not breakable, no matter how careful you keep being,” Sansa grunts out, her hand down on her clit, and it rubs against Sandor’s abs and it lights him on fire, somehow and then her talking to him, convincing him things are alright and then she moves her mouth to his ear, licks the shell of it, bites on the lobe, and hisses into his ear, “come on, fuck me like you mean it,” and Sandor does. Never say he can’t take direction and really, she’s wet and tight and warm around him, and Sandor kisses her before lifting her hips a bit to get a better angle and just _fucks_.

He’s in it now, and only slows for a few moments in-between, just enough to lean down and lick at her beautiful breasts, tug at her lip and suck her tongue into his mouth and she strokes her hands all over him, urging him on, and gripping him down for kisses as well.

They are so in-sync. Sandor has never had a partner who is quite this clear about what they want right from the start and he can only fuck her a bit harder, a bit faster when he thinks about it. Feels good to know they’re on the same page.

She comes just before him and he makes sure to roll off of her carefully when he goes to toss the condom.

“That was amazing, sweetheart.” Sansa says, rolling off the bed to walk to the bathroom, but before she does, she pulls him down for a kiss, while she’s still half on the bed. “I definitely want to do _that_ again.”

Sandor blushes, but kisses her passionately and gives her a hand as she gets off the bed.

While she’s away, Sandor tides up the room, changes the dirty sheets and gets them some water.

He’s on auto, and when he’s all done, Sansa comes up behind him and circles his waist, and kisses him between his shoulder blades, and rests her head for a second right on the spot. “I can stay, right?” she asks and without thought, Sandor replies, warm and comfortable, “Of course, Princess,” and feels her smile against him.

He swings a hand back and steadies it on her, and then turns around in her arms.

“I’ve made it all ready for us.”

Sandor is once again blown away by her bright, blinding smile and thinks, he could really get used to this.

Before he can lead her to bed, she grabs his hand, and kisses his knuckles, in a way that Sandor feels like he should scoff at, but makes warmth bloom in his middle, and tugs him to bed. Her long red her splays his pillows and he crawls in after her, trying not to take too much space, but she just drags him into the middle and then promptly cuddles into him, slotting up quite nicely against him.

He’s not sure he’s ever fallen asleep so quickly.


End file.
